From This Day Forward

by Victoria Thompson

  Lori didn’t want to go. She knew from the expression on Adam’s face that he wanted more than some exercise. He wanted to talk to her, away from the house where no one could overhear them, and when he did, she would know for sure how he felt about Matthew and what he had learned about Eric and how it would change all their lives. She knew instinctively that when she returned everything would be different, and as much as she hated this uncertainty, fearing what he might say to her even more.

  But she wasn’t going to let her fear control her. If she had learned nothing else from the past few months, she had learned that. Still smiling, as if she anticipated only a pleasant outing, she rose to her feet.

  “I’d love to go for a walk,” she said and went to him.

  She tried not to watch the way he moved as he stepped aside to allow her to pass through the doorway and as he followed her down the hall to the back door. She paused to lift her shawl from the hook beside the door and started when Adam took it from her and laid it around her shoulders.

  “Thank you,” she said, a little breathless as his hands lingered just a moment too long in a fleeting caress.

  “Why are you blushing?” he asked with apparent amusement.

  “I’m not blushing,” she lied and hurried outside.

  To her surprise, he had no trouble at all keeping up with her, though. In fact, as she saw when she looked at him, he was hardly even limping, and he didn’t have his cane.

  “Your leg doesn’t hurt you?” she asked in surprise.

  “It’s still a little sore, but I’ve found that the more I walk, the better it feels. Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm, as if she were the one who needed support.

  She took it gladly, savoring the feel of his strong arm beneath her hand, and smiled up at him. He smiled back and laid his other hand over hers where it rested on his arm. For a few moments, as they walked in silence, Lori forgot everything except how wonderful it felt to be with him again, just the two of them.

  He walked easily, if a bit slowly, and after a while he said, “I’m going to be fine, Lori. I won’t be a cripple anymore.”

  “I never thought you were before,” she reminded him.

  “But you were worried about how I’d run this place after the war, if the slaves were free.”

  “I think you were the one who brought that up. I wasn’t worried. I’ve been poor all my life, Adam. I’m not afraid to be poor again, and I’m certainly not afraid of hard work.”

  His eyes were troubled as he gazed down at her. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but at least you can be sure that I’ll be able to do my share of that work. In a week or two, I expect I’ll be able to walk behind a plow, if I have to.”

  Lori almost smiled at that image, but just then she happened to notice the direction in which they were walking “Where are we going?” she asked in alarm.

  Adam stopped. “I want to see where you laid him, Lori.” They’d buried Eric that first morning. Lori hadn’t seen any reason to wait, since Adam was in no shape to attend the burial and wouldn’t be for several days. Since the Ross family would be expected to feel shame over the fact that Eric had died by his own hand, no one would question he haste or her failure to call their friends and neighbors to gather. She’d simply told Oscar to take care of everything and the next time she’d gone to the parlor, the awful coffin and its hideous contents had been gone. She certainly hadn’t considered visiting his grave, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “You don’t have to go with me, but I’d like you to,” Adar said. “I didn’t want to go alone.”

  Lori knew what it was like to be alone, and she didn’t want Adam to feel that way, not when she loved him so very much. Without a word she started walking again, down the path that led to the small cemetery where the Ross family had buried their dead.

  The family plot was surrounded by a wrought iron fence. Inside were the graves of Adam’s parents, marked with marble headstones. The flowers that had been planted on the in the spring were fading now and nearly dead. Outside the fence were the graves of the slaves that had died on the plantation. One of them, Lori knew, was the grave of Adam’s real brother, the one whom Sudie had claimed was her child but she tried not to think of that. It was easy when she saw the mound of freshly turned earth that marked Eric’s grave. She had expected to feel some kind of satisfaction at the proof that Eric had paid the ultimate price for his cruelties to her and Adam. Instead, she simply felt sad.

  “You put him in the family plot,” Adam said with some surprise.

  “I promised Sudie that I would. He was your father’s son, after all, but if you want him moved...”

  “Oh, no,” Adam assured her. “I was afraid... You’ve got every reason to hate him. We both do. But he was the only brother I ever knew. I don’t think I ever understood how he felt until I found out what he had done to you.” Lori looked up at him in surprise, but he was staring at Eric’s unmarked grave. “I despised him because he’d taken what I thought was mine, and when I saw him going after you and the baby...”

  He did look at her then, and his eyes fairly blazed with the memory, “I wanted to kill him, Lori. I wanted to kill him so that I could have what I thought was mine.”

  “Oh, Adam, you don’t have to feel guilty—”

  “No, don’t you see?” he interrupted her. “That’s how he must have felt about me. I’ve been thinking about this a lot while I’ve been lying in bed these past few days. Our father loved me, but not him. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t his fault, and in his twisted way, he must have thought that if he killed me, he could get back what was rightfully his. That’s why he shot me years ago... And that’s why he attacked you.”

  “What?”

  “You told me that you’ve loved me for a long time, Lori. Well, I had feelings for you, too. They weren’t quite that honorable, I’m afraid. I merely wanted you. But I didn’t think you were worthy of my attentions. I didn’t think you were good enough for a Ross.”

  His words stung, but Lori could tell by the way his voice broke that they hurt him as much as they did her. “Adam, don’t,” she begged him.

  But he ignored her protest. “If I hadn’t been so proud, I would have courted you openly, and then Eric couldn’t have tricked you. But because of my stupid pride, Eric was able to—”

  "Don’t!” she cried. “Stop it! We can’t change the past, and we can’t take the blame for what Eric did! Lots of people have parents who don’t love them, but that’s no reason for hurting other people! There’s no excuse at all for the things he did to both of us and punishing ourselves won’t change that. Adam, the only hope we have is to forget the past and try to go on.”

  “Can you forget the past?” he challenged.

  Lori could almost hear Sudie’s warning that she would never really forget what Eric had done to her. “Maybe not completely,” she admitted, hurrying on when she saw the despair in his eyes, “but I can make sure it doesn’t ruin any chance I have for happiness in the future. I love you, Adam. I loved you before Eric attacked me, and I love you more now. He can’t destroy that, unless we let him.”

  Adam’s mouth curved in a smile that was infinitely sad. “I can’t believe I ever thought myself too good for you, Lori McClintock. You have more honor than the entire Ross family put together.”

  Her smile wasn’t sad at all. “Have you forgotten? I’m a Ross now, too.”

  “Perhaps you can save us, then. You may be our last hope.”

  But she wasn’t the last hope. “Adam,” she began, not at all certain what to say or how to ask him what she needed to know. “What Sudie said, about Eric being her son...”

  Adam frowned and his gaze drifted over to where the slave graves lay in neat rows, to where the baby that was his real brother lay. “I always wondered why she didn’t cry when her baby died. She never shed a tear.”

  Was it possible? Could he not have thought about what all this meant for Matthew? “Adam, if Eric was Sudie’s son the
n Matthew is—”

  “Matthew is my son,” he told her fiercely, cutting her off. “Unless you don’t want him anymore,” he added. “Unless you want to send him down to the quarters to be raised with his own kind!”

  “No!” Lori cried, horrified. “How could you say such a thing!” Only then did she realize how stiffly Adam had been holding himself because suddenly the tension drained out of him and he took her by her shoulders and turned her to face him.

  “Are you saying it doesn’t matter to you?” he demanded. “That you don’t care that Matthew has Negro blood?”

  “Of course it doesn’t matter! He’s my son, and I love him!”

  “And he’s my son, too, now, because I love him, too.”

  “Oh, Adam, are you sure?”

  “Lori, I know I promised you that I’d be a real father to him because I didn’t want him to grow up twisted, the way Eric did, but that was before I knew Matthew. Now I do know him, I know everything about him, and I want to be his father more than ever. So, yes, I’m sure. I’m positive.” Lori threw her arms around him, and he crushed her to him. After a moment, he found her mouth with his and kissed her fiercely, as if he were claiming her for the very first time. When he was finished, he drew away, cupping her face with his hands.

  “I want to make love to you, Mrs. Ross, but first I want to see my son.”

  “I guess we need to go back to the house then,” Lori said, so happy she wanted to laugh out loud.

  He kissed her again, and then he tucked her hand through his arm once more, and they turned back toward the house. Behind them lay the past, but it was dead and buried now. Ahead of them lay the future. For no particular reason, Lori remembered a part of her marriage vows, a phrase that had seemed somehow important at the time and which she now realized held a particular promise: from this day forward. Not looking back, not held by the shackles of the past, she and Adam would face what lay ahead together, secure in the knowledge that the trials through which they had come had made them strong enough to endure whatever might befall them.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I would like to offer a special note of thanks to Anna Fleck, the director of the Blair County Rape Crisis Program. Anna very generously advised me when I was planning this story, so that I could accurately describe a victim’s reaction to rape, and she read the completed manuscript to make sure I had done so. The only thing she asked in return was that I not portray my heroine as making a miraculous and complete recovery from her ordeal after only a few weeks, but rather that I realistically show how Lori’s recovery was a gradual process, one she will continue working through for the rest of her life.

  Lori McClintock was the victim of what we now call “date rape” or “acquaintance rape.” While most people think of a rapist as a perverted monster who leaps out on his victims from the bushes or breaks into their homes in the dark of night and beats them brutally into submission before raping them, the fact is that most rapists appear perfectly normal and function normally, except for their predilection for forcing women they meet or already know to have sex with them whether the women are willing or not. These rapists only use as much force as necessary to subdue their victims and often take no pleasure from hurting them. Their goal is simply to exert their power over women, and they do this by forcing them to have intercourse against their will.

  While acquaintance rape is probably most common, it is also the kind of rape least often reported and most difficult to prosecute. The victim typically has no serious injuries to prove she was coerced or that she resisted, and often she was voluntarily in the rapist’s company, perhaps even on a date with him. The rapist offers a convincing defense, too, since he truly believes himself to be innocent of wrongdoing because “she asked for it.”

  But just because a woman knows her attacker and wasn’t seriously injured in the attack does not make her any less a victim of rape. In fact, such victims may suffer more because friends and family and law enforcement officials often do not believe the victims or sympathize with them. Like Lori, these victims endure the double humiliation of being somehow blamed for their own attack. Or worse, they are too ashamed to admit what happened and never seek help at all.

  If you or someone you know is a victim of acquaintance rape or rape of any kind, do not hesitate to seek help. Most communities have rape crisis programs with trained counselors who will believe you and will help you deal with the trauma. Whether or not you seek to prosecute the rapist, and no matter how much time has passed since the attack, counseling can help.

  As a result of researching this book, I have developed a tremendous respect for women who have survived the trauma of rape and for those who help them. I only hope this book will contribute in some small way toward educating the public to recognize acquaintance rape for the crime that it is so that it will no longer be tolerated or misunderstood, as has happened so often in the past.

  I love to hear from my readers. If you would like to tell me how you enjoyed this book and would like a newsletter telling you when my next book will be coming out, please send a long self-addressed stamped envelope to:

  Victoria Thompson

  P.O. Box 134

  Duncansville, PA 16635-0134

  DISCOVER VICTORIA THOMPSON

  Historical Romance Novels:

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  Wild Texas Wind

  Winds of Promise

  Winds of Destiny

  Winds of Fortune

  The Tates of Texas Box Set

  Hired Gunslingers Series

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  Standalone Titles

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  From This Day Forward

  Beloved Outcast

  Playing with Fire

  Cry Wolf

  Historical Mysteries:

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  Murder in Chelsea

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  Murder on Lenox HIll

  Murder on Marble Row

  Murder on Mulberry Bend

  Murder on Washington Square

  Murder on Grammercy Park

  Murder on St. Mark's Place

  Murder on Astor Place

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Victoria Thompson is the author of twenty bestselling historical romances. She is also the Edgar nominated author of the bestselling Gaslight Mystery Series, set in turn-of-the-century New York City and featuring midwife Sarah Brandt. She also contributed to the award winning writing textbook Many Genres/One Craft. A popular speaker, Victoria teaches in the Seton Hill University master's program in writing popular fiction. She lives in Central PA with her husband and a very spoiled little dog.

  Please visit Victoria Thompson’s http://victoriathompson.homestead.com/index.html to learn about new releases and discover old favorites!

 

 

 
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